“Here, keep pressure on it,” Beatriz tells him, bringing his left hand up to cover the cloth. “The bleeding isn’t too bad—give it a few minutes and I’m sure it’ll stop.”
Nicolo clears his throat. “Yes, thank you,” he says, getting back to his feet. “And thanks, Gigi,” he adds hastily, grabbing the goblet of wine from her and hurrying out the door.
When he’s gone, Gisella looks at Beatriz with raised eyebrows. “What did you do to him, threaten to set him on fire?” she asks. “I’ve never seen him move that fast before.”
“I think it’s the threat of the king’s temper,” Beatriz points out, though she isn’t convinced.
Gisella rolls her eyes. “He’s been the king’s cupbearer for almost a full year now—here’s hoping not for much longer. The one he replaced now sits on the king’s council, you know.”
“It seems a dangerous ladder to try to climb,” Beatriz says.
Gisella shrugs. “Perhaps, but that’s what makes it so fun,” she says with a grin. “Oh! Before I forget—I intercepted a messenger on my way here. There was a letter for you.”
Gisella reaches into the pocket of her gown and pulls out a cream envelope, sealed with yellow wax dotted with violet.
Beatriz’s stomach sours even as she reaches out to take it. The letter is from her mother.
Not even five minutes into her first council meeting, Sophronia is sure of one thing: Leopold has no hand at all in running Temarin. She knew he was uninvolved with most things, but now she doubts he’s ever made a decision as king that wasn’t whispered in his ear first. He might wear the crown. He might even believe he is in charge, and if his council members were asked, they would surely agree with him, but her mother was right: Queen Eugenia runs Temarin from the coastline to the Bessemian border, with the help of the other council members, Lord Verning and Lord Covier, whose primary function seems to be to agree with whatever she says.
“We’ve received word from Lord Savelle,” Lord Verning says after introductions are made. He glances at Sophronia. “That is our ambassador stationed in the Cellarian court, Your Majesty,” he adds, in the same tone one would use when explaining something to a small child. Sophronia forces a grateful smile, as if she didn’t already know this and hadn’t had a letter from Beatriz just this morning detailing her habit of morning strolls with Lord Savelle. It doesn’t sound like the seduction their mother planned, but Beatriz has always been one to handle things her own way.
Lord Verning clears his throat before continuing. “He expressed concerns for King Cesare’s…health.”
“Is my brother ill?” Queen Eugenia asks, tilting her head. Sophronia studies her as casually as she can, searching for any indication of undue concern, but Eugenia betrays nothing that suggests she’s been in contact with him. She might as well be hearing news about a casual acquaintance instead of her sibling.
“Not so much ill as…temperamental,” Lord Verning says carefully.
“That is not news,” Queen Eugenia says with a laugh. “Cesare has always been temperamental.”
“Yes, but more recently he’s taken to jailing and executing any person who disagrees with him. I believe the Duke of Dorinthe was the most recent casualty of his temper,” Lord Verning says.
Queen Eugenia’s eyebrows rise. “He had a duke executed?” she asks.
“Indeed. Lord Savelle also mentioned that he has been behaving inappropriately toward his new daughter-in-law.”
“Beatriz?” Sophronia can’t help but ask. It’s the first thing she’s said during the meeting, and she’d been resolved to hold her tongue and listen, but the mention of her sister makes it impossible. She knows that Beatriz can handle herself, but still, the thought of her sister having to contend with a lecherous and possibly mad king makes her feel sick.
“Well, he’d hardly be the first king to try to seduce a young bride away from her husband,” Lord Covier points out.
“From what Lord Savelle says, Princess Beatriz has proven quite adept at rebuffing him. But his attentions have been…public.”
“He’s making an ass of himself,” Queen Eugenia surmises.
“He’s losing the respect of his court,” Lord Verning says. “There have been rumblings of coups from families close to the throne, but no one can agree on who they would support to replace him.”
“Why wouldn’t Pasquale?” Leopold asks, echoing Sophronia’s own thoughts. “He is the crown prince.”
“Prince Pasquale has no allies of his own at court,” Lord Verning says. “And there are many families hungry for power who wouldn’t think twice of climbing over him to take it.”
Oh, be careful, Triz, Sophronia thinks, though she knows her sister would laugh off her concern. And with good reason. If anyone can woo the Cellarian courtiers to her side, it’s Beatriz.
“He has a friend in Temarin,” Leopold announces. “He’s my cousin, his wife and mine are sisters. If it comes to it, we will give them whatever support we can.”
Sophronia glances sideways at him, surprised by the passion in the declaration. When the time comes to declare war on Cellaria, she doubts she’ll have trouble convincing Leopold to do it.
Lord Verning exchanges a look with Queen Eugenia, so quick that Sophronia almost misses it. Could it be that he’s involved in Eugenia’s plot with Cellaria as well? Before she can ponder that possibility further, Lord Verning turns back to Leopold with a bland smile.
“Of course, Your Majesty, we will keep you apprised of the situation.”
“Good,” Leopold says before glancing at Sophronia. “The queen and I would like to discuss the palace’s finances,” he announces.
“Oh?” Lord Covier asks, sitting up and flipping through the stack of papers in front of him. “Ah yes, it looks like we are prepared to increase taxes two percent next month to increase the palace treasury, though we can also increase Kavelle’s city taxes if you would like more—”
“No,” Leopold interrupts, his eyes widening. “No, the opposite, in fact. We’ve been discussing the possibility of trimming palace expenses so that we can cut taxes.”
Lord Covier, Lord Verning, and Queen Eugenia exchange looks.
“I don’t understand, Your Majesty,” Lord Covier says, leaning forward. “You wish to be less affluent?”
Leopold frowns, looking to Sophronia for help, so she jumps in.
“We have become aware of the plight many of the commoners in Temarin are facing,” she says. “They can barely afford the taxes they are paying now. After looking over the accounts for the royal family, we’ve spent over thirty million asters so far this month alone. Many of our people can’t afford to put food on their tables. Why should we take what little money they have to buy ourselves diamonds?”